Drusilla Bugsinger vs. a hunk of bell pepper
So the other day my cat did the cutest thing. Since you weren't there to see it firsthand, I'll now relate it to you in excruciating detail.
So I was making a big cuke and bell pepper salad for zoe9873654321 and myself. Because my kitchen lacks any counter space whatsoever, I was sitting in front of the tv chopping veggies into a pot that was in my lap. So the salad was yummy, and I ate it.
But the story doesn't end there! Oh, no no no.
So later on that night, I see Dru (my hyper-adorable little black cat) sniffing something. She's doing that catlike "I'm going to eat it, but not for another 3-4 minutes yet" sniff-poke-lick-almost-take-a-bite thing. It's a chunk of orange bell pepper, roughly rectangular, and about 2.5 in x 1 in. So she's sniffing it, and licking it, and she finally determines that it's good to eat... but before she can eat it, being a cat, she has to kill it. So she spends the next half hour killing this piece of bell pepper. Smacking it around, tossing it up in the air and pouncing on it... She even trots around the apartment with it in her mouth, looking for all the world like a miniature black leopard hauling a gazelle carcass up into a tree.
So after she spends the better part of a half-hour fucking up this hunk of bell pepper, she finally decides it's dead enough to eat. Now, before anyone freaks out, let me say that cats of mine in the past have enjoyed such non-carcass delicacies as cantaloupe, american cheese, and roma tomatos. Also, chocolate, but that's bad for kitties. None of them collapsed into a lack of meat coma, nor did any of them forswear meat, join greenpeace, start wearing patchoulli, and start to find Moby's Animal Rights albumn tolerable.
But eating a bell pepper when you're a cat isn't as simple as it might seem. She first tries to nibble, but her meat-puncture teeth weren't doing such a good job of slicing off a bite-size piece. She'd chew and chew and then it'd just kind of fall out of her mouth. Then she moved up to using her specialized cat food teeth (the ones on the side of the mouth, that give cats such a distinctive "I'm eating catfood right now crunch crunch" sideways squint) except it's too big, and she can't get at it. She also did that let-go-then-bite-down-while-moving-your-whole-head thing, like a gecko eating a cricket.
All in all, this process took about an hour. She was aware of me staring at her and laughing, and I think the pressure got to her a bit. She kept shooting me dirty looks... hey, I can't help it if the sight of my cat doing butt-wiggle-pounce! on a vegetable strikes me as funny. I was laughing for about the entire hour. I have since rewarded her by purchasing for her a giant pink Enticer. Oh how she loves to up-fuck it. It taunts her, and menaces her with it's presence. They have epic battles. Late at night. When I'm trying to sleep.
Anyway. I just want to go on record as saying that I have the raddest cat ever. She's sleek, and soft, and really really slutty. She talks a lot, but in her funny little Bugsinging voice. She may be tiny, but she has the biggest purr glands I've ever seen. You know, those under-jaw scent gland things? Hers are massively overdeveloped, so she has no choice but to glad-rub you all the time. She's the perfect indoor cat (i.e. lover not fighter), which is a good thing since she's too wee to really let out into the world, particularly with all the traffic and raccoons by my house. That, and she's so sweet and so affectionate that someone would stop to pet her, then pick her up and take her home. Also, when Schrodinger Cat died of speeding car-induced smoosh, I promised myself that I'd only have indoor cats from then on. This is a complete reversal of my previous stance, which said that cats are small predators by nature, and it is a grave injustice to deny them the chance to gnaw the heads off birds. Dru seems pretty happy, even if she does give me this really confused and betrayed look right when she bites down on a spider... the look seems to say, "Wait a minute. I've been training and practicing my hunting skills non-stop since birth, and it all leads up to.... up to....something that tastes like this!!?!?!" Yes, Drusilla Bugsinger is the perfect indoor feline companion. Instead of keeping mice out of my barn, she relentlessly tracks down and kills bugs. Untold generations of domesticated indoor breeding have bequeathed to her her Bugsinging gift. You know how all cats like to sing to bugs? Well, her Bugsong actually either immobilizes bugs, or else calls them to her. I know, it's a gift. Hmmm, which is a better sobriquet? Drusilla Bugsinger or Drusilla Bugsiren?
So I was making a big cuke and bell pepper salad for zoe9873654321 and myself. Because my kitchen lacks any counter space whatsoever, I was sitting in front of the tv chopping veggies into a pot that was in my lap. So the salad was yummy, and I ate it.
But the story doesn't end there! Oh, no no no.
So later on that night, I see Dru (my hyper-adorable little black cat) sniffing something. She's doing that catlike "I'm going to eat it, but not for another 3-4 minutes yet" sniff-poke-lick-almost-take-a-bite thing. It's a chunk of orange bell pepper, roughly rectangular, and about 2.5 in x 1 in. So she's sniffing it, and licking it, and she finally determines that it's good to eat... but before she can eat it, being a cat, she has to kill it. So she spends the next half hour killing this piece of bell pepper. Smacking it around, tossing it up in the air and pouncing on it... She even trots around the apartment with it in her mouth, looking for all the world like a miniature black leopard hauling a gazelle carcass up into a tree.
So after she spends the better part of a half-hour fucking up this hunk of bell pepper, she finally decides it's dead enough to eat. Now, before anyone freaks out, let me say that cats of mine in the past have enjoyed such non-carcass delicacies as cantaloupe, american cheese, and roma tomatos. Also, chocolate, but that's bad for kitties. None of them collapsed into a lack of meat coma, nor did any of them forswear meat, join greenpeace, start wearing patchoulli, and start to find Moby's Animal Rights albumn tolerable.
But eating a bell pepper when you're a cat isn't as simple as it might seem. She first tries to nibble, but her meat-puncture teeth weren't doing such a good job of slicing off a bite-size piece. She'd chew and chew and then it'd just kind of fall out of her mouth. Then she moved up to using her specialized cat food teeth (the ones on the side of the mouth, that give cats such a distinctive "I'm eating catfood right now crunch crunch" sideways squint) except it's too big, and she can't get at it. She also did that let-go-then-bite-down-while-moving-your-whole-head thing, like a gecko eating a cricket.
All in all, this process took about an hour. She was aware of me staring at her and laughing, and I think the pressure got to her a bit. She kept shooting me dirty looks... hey, I can't help it if the sight of my cat doing butt-wiggle-pounce! on a vegetable strikes me as funny. I was laughing for about the entire hour. I have since rewarded her by purchasing for her a giant pink Enticer. Oh how she loves to up-fuck it. It taunts her, and menaces her with it's presence. They have epic battles. Late at night. When I'm trying to sleep.
Anyway. I just want to go on record as saying that I have the raddest cat ever. She's sleek, and soft, and really really slutty. She talks a lot, but in her funny little Bugsinging voice. She may be tiny, but she has the biggest purr glands I've ever seen. You know, those under-jaw scent gland things? Hers are massively overdeveloped, so she has no choice but to glad-rub you all the time. She's the perfect indoor cat (i.e. lover not fighter), which is a good thing since she's too wee to really let out into the world, particularly with all the traffic and raccoons by my house. That, and she's so sweet and so affectionate that someone would stop to pet her, then pick her up and take her home. Also, when Schrodinger Cat died of speeding car-induced smoosh, I promised myself that I'd only have indoor cats from then on. This is a complete reversal of my previous stance, which said that cats are small predators by nature, and it is a grave injustice to deny them the chance to gnaw the heads off birds. Dru seems pretty happy, even if she does give me this really confused and betrayed look right when she bites down on a spider... the look seems to say, "Wait a minute. I've been training and practicing my hunting skills non-stop since birth, and it all leads up to.... up to....something that tastes like this!!?!?!" Yes, Drusilla Bugsinger is the perfect indoor feline companion. Instead of keeping mice out of my barn, she relentlessly tracks down and kills bugs. Untold generations of domesticated indoor breeding have bequeathed to her her Bugsinging gift. You know how all cats like to sing to bugs? Well, her Bugsong actually either immobilizes bugs, or else calls them to her. I know, it's a gift. Hmmm, which is a better sobriquet? Drusilla Bugsinger or Drusilla Bugsiren?